


Motel Sprees

by htebazytook



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Established Relationship, Humor, Incest, M/M, Overhearing Sex, Porn, Romance, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2073534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htebazytook/pseuds/htebazytook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas pops in to visit Dean after returning from purgatory.  Sam POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motel Sprees

**Title:** Motel Sprees  
 **Author:** htebazytook  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Disclaimer:** *disclaims*  
 **Pairing:** Dean/Castiel, (a dash of Sam/Dean and Sam/Amelia)  
 **Time Frame:** season 8  
 **Summary:** Cas pops in to visit Dean after returning from purgatory. Sam POV.

 

"I know you're there, Cas," Dean mumbles, face presumably smashed into his pillow. "I can _feel_ you staring at me."

A muted rustling and Cas must have materialized because Dean continues:

"Would it kill you to just, I dunno, _call_ instead of popping out of thin air?" 

"My phone, it . . . updates were required, Dean."

"Congratulations." 

"The apple hasn't gone away . . . "

Dean's facepalming, probably.

"It's curious, that this company uses a symbol of the original sin as its predominant hallmark. I don't think it represents their product in the way they'd intended . . . "

"I thought that was actually a pomegranate or something in the Garden of Eden?"

"Humans do not have a name for the forbidden fruit, of which there was only one sapling. It was, however, most similar to an apple."

"Is there a reason why you're here, Cas?"

Sam isn't facing Dean's bed in the Ardmore motel room, but he can tell from his tone of voice that he isn't really pissed about Cas showing up. He'd downright depressed when Cas was stuck in purgatory, and if anything he's pissed about Cas not showing up often enough since they'd both gotten back.

"I am watching over you, Dean." And Sam can picture the look on his face. 

"Okay but you're not really an angel anymore. You fell, remember?"

" _Lucifer_ fell," Cas says. "If I had fallen as Lucifer fell I would have fallen in flames." 

"Okay Javert, sauntered vaguely downwards, whatever. I'm just saying . . . you're not exactly the star choirboy anymore. So what's your deal?"

"What's my . . . ?"

"Who's side are you on?"

"Yours," Cas says. "I have always been on your side."

"Uh huh, is that what you call your deal with Crowley, not to mention your little Reign of Terror when you were hopped up on monster souls?"

"While I admit that my powers . . . got away from me, it was done in service of you. Because of you."

Dean snorts sarcastically. "God that is such bullshit, you know that? Don't put your fuck up's on me, man."

There's rustling, a tiny creak. Cas sitting on the bed. More rustling meaning Dean's sat up. "You are not understanding me," Cas says. "I stayed in purgatory to atone for my sins. But the intent behind them was a result of your influence. Your unflagging commitment to doing the right thing, no matter the cost."

After a minute: "Yeah, well." Dean clears his throat. "I get it, I know you're sorry."

"I never thought about what was right and what was wrong, before we met. I only knew God's will, which I presumed to be both right and God's."

"Cas."

"So if I've fallen because I have rejected that, then so be it." There's a silence, so long that Sam thinks Cas must have disappeared. He's just starting to doze again when Cas says, "That . . . feels good."

"Yeah, that's kind of the idea."

"Dean, what are you . . . "

"Just relax."

"De— _mm_."

Rustling fabric, quicker breathing, the unmistakable wet sound as one of them pulls back from the kiss.

"Hey, hold up, Cas, where are you going?"

"This isn't wise."

Dean laughs a little bitterly, "That is _not_ what you said in purgatory."

"All that happened in purgatory is best forgotten."

"Oh come on - don't pull that shit with me, man. It's not fucking Vegas, Cas. Cas? Ugh."

He really must have gone now, Sam thinks. Dean stalks over to the mini-fridge and chugs a beer before throwing himself back onto his bed and sighing. Sam's shared a room with Dean for long enough to know he doesn't fall asleep before Sam does.

*

In Shreveport, Sam wakes up muzzily from a sex dream. Disembodied notions of Amelia still lingering in his head though the other details are already gone, but a similar soundtrack is emanating from the other bed.

Dean isn't moaning. Sam knows because he just can't help knowing what Dean's moans sound like - when he got hit in a fight or when he was jerking off in the shower. Sam knew the subtle differences between the two and the muffled sounds coming from over Sam's shoulder weren't coming from Dean.

Sam hadn't known Cas could even _make_ sounds like that. It was unmistakably him, though, growly and in your face and weird as hell to hear coming from Dean's bed right now.

Okay, _now_ Dean's moaning, too. Loud gasp from someone followed by some extra jumbled breathing. 

Cas goes, "Oh . . . "

Dean says, "Shh," very sharply, followed by a soft thud. Pinning Cas's arms down or something? Not knowing makes it . . . dammit, _hot_. 

But Sam had already been half hard, anyway, right? And the idea that his brother making out with an angel might have subconsciously gotten Sam in the mood while he was asleep isn't something he really wants to delve too deeply into. Blame it on generalized sexual frustration? 

Sam just lies there as still as possible, trying and failing to will his erection away. Luckily it's then that Cas blurts out, "Dean this isn't . . . stop, _ah_ \- "

"You sure about that?" Dean murmurs. " 'Cause _this_ begs to differ."

Moan from Cas, some incriminating rustling. Kissing, muffled sounds, smack of parting mouths.

"Hey!" Dean hisses.

"We shouldn't."

Dean heaves a sigh. " _Why?_ "

"I shouldn't. It's better this way, Dean."

"You're so fucking stupid, seriously."

Woosh of wings in reply, followed by Dean sighing again, less forcefully than Sam would've expected - just a defeated little puff of air and the sound of him lying back down on the bed.

*

Sam wakes up again a couple of nights later, not 100% on the timeline in his grogginess. Streetlights are close to the window and the motel room is oversaturated with murky orange light.

He isn't sure right away what's woken him up, but then Dean laughs low and breathlessly from the other bed, which given Sam's sleep-weak defenses goes straight to his groin. Sam can't even bring himself to care how fucked up it is anymore – he'll take whatever depraved little kicks he can get.

"Hey, what are you . . ." Dean's voice threatens to break. "Hey, hey, I thought you didn't wanna - "

Cas, so roughly, "I want to know how to do this." 

Dean laughs. "Uh, we already – "

" _Here_ ," Cas says. "Things are less clear here than in purgatory."

"Yeah, welcome to humanity," Dean says, but it isn't taunting. There's a long pause, and Sam can imagine their staring contest. "What do you even want?" 

"Physical intimacy."

Dean snorts. "You're such a romantic."

"It's how you express emotions. Through actions, fighting, sexual activity. I want to . . . express the things that I feel. Exhaust them."

"Yeah, again, I'm not exactly Dr Phil here, Cas - "

"I need to make them stop."

Softer, "What?"

"Help me." 

Silence. Silence. Gasp from Cas, chuckle from Dean.

"This is lust," Cas diagnoses breathlessly, then makes a delirious sound into Dean's mouth.

"Mmhmm," Dean says. "I can help you with that one."

Sam's eyes fly open, and it's with a rush of shame and desire that he realizes he wishes he was facing Dean's bed - half curiosity about Cas in the throes of passion, half heart racing taboo about seeing Dean doing more than moan in the shower.

They're being so sloppy, sheets rustling nonstop and kisses filling the stagnant orange air between breathless words:

"Dean . . . "

"Good huh?"

"I, uh . . . _ah_ , don't, don't stop doing that . . . "

"Like this?"

" _Ah_."

"Cas?"

" _Yes_ . . . ah, yes . . . "

"You're so perfect like this."

Cas laughs, which is the most disturbing thing Sam's heard yet. "Far from it."

"Shut up, just _shut up_." Long, long kiss that they're panting after. "Who fucking cares?"

Cas sighs. "Dean, you don't un - "

"Cursed or not, Cas. Just come here, just shut the fuck up."

They're quieter after that, movements slowing and it's only small pleading sounds and murmurs between slow kisses until someone lurches sharply on the bed, Cas's voice gasping higher and higher and Dean muttering, _Yeah, Cas,_ and _Come on_ , muted and breathily until all goes still.

"Oh," Cas says dreamily.

Dean laughs a little. "Yeah, 'oh'. God you're so - _shit_."

Whumpf of a body (Dean's, Sam assumes) against the mattress. Shuffling that Sam imagines is Cas curling up against him and speaking into his ear while jerking him off. He hears, "You make me feel so good, Dean," so impossibly low-pitched that Sam wants to echo Dean's moan. "Dean, please, I want you to . . . um . . . "

"Come?" Dean gasps. 

"Yes. Come, for me."

" _Fuck_." And they kiss for so long afterward that Sam falls back asleep before it's over.

*

Sam packs up the rest of their stuff the next morning. Dean tends to throw everything relevant to the case into his duffel and run out to the car to give her a once over, leaving extra clothes and occasional toiletries behind. So Sam cleans up his mess, sweaty from too much moving around in the stuffy room. Outside the open door wind rushes through maple trees and cars whiz by on the town's main road.

Sam catches sight of the Impala's hood up, Dean leaning over it inspecting for invented problems but at least it makes him happy. 

Sam goes into the tiny bathroom to do one final sweep, and when he comes back out Dean's upright and caught in a staring contest with Cas.

Sam wonders if they'll kiss, but Dean just smiles and says something before bending back over the car. Cas is smiling too. And it feels more intimate than anything Sam's overheard.

*


End file.
